


In League With Dragons

by h1mb0



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Gen, Slice of Life, its a write up of my playthrough so i guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-09 06:53:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20849300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/h1mb0/pseuds/h1mb0
Summary: "I placed the sword that Imperial soldier had thrown to me, at the start of our escape from Helgen, by the side of the Standing Stone. I had no strength or use for it. Running my hand over its engraved face, I was reminded of how much I have to be thankful for. Still having a head and all."





	In League With Dragons

**Author's Note:**

> This is what I've written of my first Skyrim playthrough so far! Big thanks to InSearchOfSpace for beta-ing this. I wrote this on my phone first, so sorry for any formatting blunders!

I placed the sword that Imperial soldier had thrown to me, at the start of our escape from Helgen, by the side of the Standing Stone. I had no strength or use for it. Running my hand over its engraved face, I was reminded of how much I have to be thankful for. Still having a head and all.

The road south was quiet for midday, and a breeze blew softly in the canopy overhead. I easily forgot what I had so desperately fled from. I took a seat on the bank of the river, and watched the deer grazing on the other side. The only sounds to be heard were the rustling of leaves up above and the running of water below. Leaning back, I watched the clouds float lazily across the sky. For the first time in weeks I was able to feel a sense of peace.

This was rather rudely interrupted by the sound of a snapping twig nearby. My ears pricked up and I turned around, just in time, to see and brace for a wolf lunging at me. Its mouth was foaming and its breath was fowl, wrestling me back down to the ground. I looked to my bow, which lay uselessly on the river shore. How I wished I hadn’t discarded that sword. All the while the wolf was thrashing tirelessly to get at my neck, panting breath heavy with the stench of rotting flesh.

I pushed one of my knees up between us, putting more distance between his terrible teeth and my neck. Swiftly as I could, I pulled the dagger I had hidden away from inside my boot, and thrust it into the wolf’s own throat. Blood sprung forth like a geyser, quickly covering my hands and face, its coppery tang filling my nose and mouth and staining my rags a deep red. I rolled over, pushing its body off me, and wretched onto the grass.

After some time heaving there, spitting and sputtering the creature’s vital fluid and my own vomit, I crawled my way over to the river and scrubbed the viscera from myself furiously. The relief of having been freed from all the muck and filth from my time in that Imperial dungeon, and the soot from the attack at Helgen, was quickly washed away by the realisation that I had nothing dry to clothe myself with after. Drat. I would have to waltz into Riverwood looking like a drowned skeezer.

Soaked to the bone and shivering cold I marched on for Riverwood; if that Imperial made good on his promise to help me, I might be able to borrow something less…ragged. The wind that I had felt so grateful to feel, now bit at my skin, making my tunic stick to my chest and eroded my will to keep walking.

I made it before dark and found the soldier’s Uncle’s shop easily, it was right on the edge of town. Small mercies. I knocked on the heavy door, saying a small prayer they didn’t slam the door right back in my face before I could get a word out. To my surprise it was the man of the hour himself that opened it, leathers off and looking quite relaxed - good to see the roads had been fairer on him. I gave my most winning smile (I really hoped I had gotten all of that wolf’s blood washed out) and he welcomed me in.

He introduced me to his uncle and aunt and I was grateful he omitted the more unflattering details of how we met. They were more than amiable to me after hearing of my heroic deeds, setting me up with some fresh clothes - a cream coloured tunic, leggings, and leather vest to go overtop - and a warm meal. Of which I was more glad to receive I could not decide but I thanked them earnestly and retired to a rug by the fire, Hadvar and the rest going to their own rooms.

I stared into the flames, thinking on what I had come from and what I would do next. I’d been encouraged to go to Whiterun, and then to Solitude to join up with the Legion. To be a part of something so massive as the Empire, to never have to wonder if I would go without, was a tempting offer to anyone with base, mortal, needs. I said as much to Hadvar and he seemed pleased to think I was considering the invitation. I resolved I would go to Whiterun and attempt to speak with the Jarl, maybe see what _opportunities_ could be made in such a large city. I suppose anyone from my life before capture would assume I was dead, given the devastation I’d seen left in the Dragon’s wake. No debts or ropes to tie me back. A chance like this would not come again. I would have to consider what I was going to do with it.


End file.
